


Five time Pallas interrupted them and one time that he didn't

by Mishima



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Captive Prince Kink Meme, Fingering, Frotting, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5948227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishima/pseuds/Mishima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stables, now that he thinks about it, was not their brightest idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Joss for the beta work and the encouragement.
> 
> This chapter goes to Alice @kingslaurent. That horse is there for you. :)
> 
> Written as a fill for a prompt in the captive prince kink meme that asked for it.

Laurent was brushing his bay’s mane when Damen found him. He watched Laurent talk softly to his horse, pet the beast’s neck with care and then, to Damen’s surprise, kiss it fondly. Damen decided to make himself known, walking noisily to meet Laurent.

Laurent made a half turn with his body and rested his head on the horse’s neck. He said “Hello,” and smiled. The stables were, miraculously, empty. Laurent didn’t seem surprised to see Damen here. 

“I have been looking for you,” Damen said. He closed the distance between them, wrapping his muscular arms around Laurent’s waist. Laurent turned his back to Damen, facing the horse again. The way Laurent’s back fitted perfectly against Damen’s chest pleased Damen a great deal. 

“You’ve found me,” Laurent said. Damen started nosing Laurent’s nape, the soft golden hair there tickling Damen’s nose. He smiled and kissed the soft skin.

“I did.”

“So?” 

“I don’t remember.” He didn’t. He was distracted: kissing Laurent’s neck, then nipping at Laurent’s delicate earlobe, this drawing a small shiver from Laurent. Damen’s hands found their way underneath Laurent’s fine shirt and were caressing his taut stomach, his finger scratching at the silky hair on his navel.

“You are too easily distracted,” Laurent said. He dropped his head on Damen’s shoulder, allowing Damen better access to his pale neck. Damen complied and started kissing it, sucking gently. Laurent’s skin turned a pretty shade of pink under his lips. Then: “We are alone.”

When Laurent turned in his arms, Damen was surprised to see that the laces on Laurent’s pants were mostly undone, the loose fabric doing a poor job of covering Laurent’s arousal. Damen looked from Laurent’s groin to his face and smirked, but before he could make any remarks on Laurent’s state of undress, Laurent lifted Damen’s skirt and began to stroke slowly. Damen took a moment to thank his ancestors for deciding to wear skirts instead of intricate lacings.

Damen was happy with the direction his evening had taken.

He let go of Laurent to search for a blanket, his stride made awkward because of his erection. Damen looked around himself and found one neatly folded near the door. A tattered black old rag that smelled strongly of horse. He arranged it on the top of the hay stacks. Not ideal, but it would do. He went back to collect Laurent, wrapping one arm around Laurent’s waist and lifting him, Damen’s other arm going for Laurent’s right leg. Laurent circled Damen’s waist with his legs and took hold of Damen’s shoulders for balance. Damen moved both of his hands to the curve of Laurent’s ass, the muscle firm under his hand, the skin warm through the fabric. He squeezed both cheeks firmly. Laurent started grinding his cock against Damen’s in response, his legs tightening around Damen and the heel of his feet digging into Damen’s thigh.

“Stop moving,” Damen said. A weak slap against Laurent’s side. “I can’t walk if you are moving like this.”

Laurent laughed. It was a warm, joyful sound, all the tension melting away from Laurent’s body. Laurent was enjoying himself as much as Damen. With Laurent’s head buried in his neck, Damen maneuvered them both to the makeshift bed, his lips firmly pressed to Laurent’s head. Laurent smelled of horse.

He dropped Laurent on the top of the blanket. Laurent lay sprawled, breathing heavy, his hair was a halo of gold behind his head, his eyes dark with pupil and his mouth was open. Laurent licked his lips. It was too much. Damen loomed on top of him, and when their mouths met, there was nothing gentle about it.

The absurdity of their situation wasn’t lost to Damen. Two kings, frolicking in a stable, like common soldiers. Damen, who had a perfect chamber with a wide bed and soft silken bed linens, was with his hands full of Veretian royalty, surrounded by horses and being poked by hay. “You will be my mount for the evening,” he whispered in Laurent’s ear.

“I’m the best rider,” Laurent said.

“You could if you want.”

“I’ve already spent the whole day riding,” Laurent said, in a manner of reply.

Damen was divesting Laurent of his pants, pulling them down Laurent’s thighs. Laurent did not offer any help. Laurent was fully aroused when Damen was done removing his garments and stroking himself lazily. Damen pressed a kiss on the slit, then decided to bring the head of Laurent’s cock to his mouth and suck it tenderly, just enough to taste. Laurent watched Damen, a moan escaping his lips and, when Damen let it go, he dropped his head on the blanket and cursed in Veretian.

“We don’t have--”

“Saddle.” Laurent moved his head to indicate the saddle next to the horse.

Why would Laurent have oil in this saddle pouch Damen didn’t ask. It wasn’t important. He went and retrieved, a small phial of scentless oil. When he returned, Laurent was pulling his shirt out and lying back, fully naked. Damen stopped. Against the black of the blanket, Laurent’s pale skin and gold hair looked exceptional. He was the most beautiful thing Damen had even seen. Laurent arched one fine eyebrow in question. Damen was still fully clothed.

Damen was not sure how they ended up here, fucking against the hay stacks. The old blanked was not thick enough to prevent the hay from poking through and prickling at their skin. Laurent’s skin would be all red from the friction once they were done. He should ask Paschal for some salve. Later.

“Turn over,” said Damen. Laurent complied, presenting Damen with his back and the shape of his firm ass. When Laurent opened his legs and looked over his shoulder to Damen, Damen decided he’d had enough of staring and poured the oil over his finger. He lowered himself, kissing Laurent’s back while his fingers searched for Laurent’s entrance, circling it gently with the pad of his fingers. He could feel Laurent gradually opening under his touch, he pressed a finger in, then two. Laurent had his eyes shut and his mouth open, no sound coming out of it but his labored breath.

Damen was about to move to his third finger when he stopped. Slowly, he turned his head.

Pallas was standing behind Damen. When Pallas realised what had happened, he stepped back, almost tripping on a old metal bucket. The sound startled Laurent, who tensed, but relaxed again when he looked over his shoulder saw it was just a soldier.

“Yes, soldier?” Laurent said, with all the poise of a man who had two fingers buried deep inside himself.

“I--I’ve been sent--” Pallas was positively mortified. His eyes were wide in shock and he was babbling. He couldn’t look at Damen. “I mean--Nikandros wishes to--” Pallas sneaked a look at Damen and, when he realised where Damen’s hand was, he looked away again and started to blush furiously. “Nikandros wishes to speak with you, Exalted,” he forced the words out. His message delivered, he retired himself as quickly as he could without running.

Damen groaned. “Now?” He dropped his forehead on Laurent’s lower back. He felt Laurent shake with laughter. “I’m glad this amuses you.”

“It is starting to become a habit,” Laurent said, as he started to turn on his back. Damen removed his fingers and wiped them on the blanket.

“I hope not,” Damen replied. “I really hope not.”

“Go.” Laurent was already looking for his discarded shirt. “We will finish later.”

Damen leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Laurent’s lips. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered.

He landed one last playful slap on Laurent’s thigh and followed Pallas out of the stable


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Joss for making sure all the commas are in place.

He hoped in vain.

Barely a week after the first incident with Pallas, it happened again. He would have loved to blame the boy, but it was hardly Pallas’s fault his kings had yet to learn how to lock a door. Or to do it in private when the doors had no locks.

It was early in the morning and the training grounds were empty, since most people favored the evening for their practice. The sun was barely up, its first rays starting to warm the white walls of the palace. Damen and Laurent were walking to the training arena, across the courtyard, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their bare backs. Laurent’s fair hair glistened in the sun.

Laurent trained in the morning as a habit. The Veretian court was prone to late nights and not into early mornings, so in the morning it was easier for a young prince to sneak away and practice his swordsmanship in secret. Damen liked to have an audience, but he liked sparring with Laurent, so he didn’t mind the early rise if it meant he’d get to have Laurent on the training arena all to himself.

The arena was empty except for a serving boy dulling the training blades, who bowed respectfully when he saw them coming and left when Laurent told him to. The practice swords were all lined up on the far wall, along with the shields and Akielon armor. On their right, the shelves were filled with bowls full of oil the men used for wrestling practice. Damen was about to go and pick a sword when Laurent closed his hand around Damen’s wrist. 

“We could do something else today,” Laurent said. “I’ve been… I thought today you could teach me how to fight,” Laurent looked at the oil to make his meaning clear, “Akielon style.”

“You thought about it.”

“When you fought Pallas during the pledge ceremony,” said Laurent. “It was--I liked that.”

That time, Laurent had only stared at him; his expression had betrayed nothing. He should have taken Laurent’s pulse. “It’s fought naked.” Damen tried not to smile.

“These scraps can hardly be called clothing,” Laurent indicated the short pants they were both wearing. They reached mid-thigh in length and were Akielon in style, suited for sword and physical practice. The fabric was light and fresh, allowing them movement and not uncomfortably tight like the ones the Veretian men usually wore. It took Damen time and a lot of reasoning on the advantages of Akielon attire over Veretian. Laurent relinquished after a couple of weeks, but not before letting Damen know exactly what he thought about it, “I’m keeping the _pants_ ,” he said the last word in Akielon.

“You said _Akielon_ style,” Damen said. “It is more enjoyable without clothes on.”

“Is it enjoyable?” Laurent arched one fine eyebrow, “I thought it was supposed to be sports.”

“It can be both,” Damen said in a soft voice.

Damen went to retrieve one of the oil bowls from the shelf. He could feel Laurent’s eyes on his back the whole time time he was moving. He was starting to feel nervous, which was ridiculous. He’d been wrestling since he was big enough for it. Kastor taught him the basics: how to pin your opponent and how to prevent them from freeing themselves. Damen had then taught Nikandros, and they’d spent the whole summer when they were thirteen covered in olive oil and wrestling each other. They were both young and strong and the physical contact was often enough to make them embarrass themselves, this being one of the reasons the young boys were not allowed to practice with the older men.

When Damen reached for the bowl, his hand was shaking. He willed it to stop. Control yourself. Wrestling was a physical sport, it would require Damen to cover Laurent with his body and hold Laurent down. It would require more strength than he’d ever use on Laurent. Damen was starting to see the appeal. He was also going to embarrass himself.

Damen picked the white bowl with both hands and returned to where Laurent stood in the middle of the arena. He offered it to Laurent with both hands, holding it like he’d hold a gift. “Oil me up,” he said.

Laurent opened his mouth as if he were going to say something. He licked his lips and nodded once instead. Laurent’s gaze was fixed on the oil. Slowly, he dipped two fingers in it, they came back shining, thick coated. Laurent looked up and looked into Damen’s eyes. Damen didn’t dare move. Laurent’s mouth was open and the blue of his eyes almost nonexistent around his dilated pupils.

Laurent lifted his finger and drew one long straight line from Damen’s right chest to his stomach, then he soaked his finger in again and drew a line across Damen’s stomach, Laurent’s eyes following the path his finger had taken. The oil on his skin reflected the sun, shining a big L on his body. Damen smiled.

He stood still as Laurent carefully oiled his chest, stopping only to scoop more oil, tracing every curve of Damen’s muscled torso with his fingers. He was efficient and soon every inch of Damen’s wide chest was gleaming with the oil, his skin darker and the hair on his chest black and clinging to his skin. Laurent spread oil over both of his palms, he then lifted his gaze to meet Damen’s and started oiling both of Damen’s shoulders, his eyes never leaving Damen’s. Laurent was so close; Damen could feel the air leaving Laurent’s open mouth on his skin. Once Laurent was done with his shoulders, he lifted his right hand and touched Damen’s lips with oil-covered fingers. Damen leaned in for a kiss; Laurent’s fingers held him in place.

“When you win,” Laurent said, “you can get your reward.”

Damen groaned, “I’ll do my best.” He wouldn’t. He would do just enough to win. Laurent certainly knew how to motivate him. He sucked Laurent’s fingers in before Laurent could remove them. When Damen let go, Laurent ran a wet finger down Damen’s neck, all the way down to his stomach. Laurent let out a small gasp when Damen twitched. Laurent’s fingers went further, stopping at Damen’s groin. He wasn’t fully aroused, but he wasn’t unaffected either.

“Not feeling very confident?” Laurent asked.

Damen dipped his fingers in the oil and lifted them in front of Laurent’s face. Laurent stepped back and spread his arms. “Very well,” Laurent said and Damen started covering Laurent’s chest with oil. Laurent’s skin was shining where Damen’s fingers touched it. Laurent’s chest, unlike Damen’s, was almost smooth, having very little hair, the scar on his shoulder the only imperfection marring it.

“Turn,” Damen said, when he was done with Laurent’s front. Laurent complied.

They were having a good summer in Akielos, raining just enough not to kill the crops, the sun out most days. Laurent, who was used to Veretian clothing, laced up to his neck, used to be pale as marble. After a few weeks under Akielon sun, Laurent pronounced the country as hot as a mare in heat and started wearing a chiton that left his shoulders and arms exposed. Laurent pinned it with a lion pin, Damen’s household symbol. 

Damen stepped closer to Laurent. Laurent’s skin was a tone darker, gently tanned and, to Damen’s surprise, his shoulders were covered in light freckles. Damen kissed Laurent’s nape, then he moved his lips to the tiny dots on Laurent’s shoulders. Laurent shifted under Damen’s touch.

“Damianos,” Laurent murmured. “Focus.”

“Your freckles,” Damen said back, his lips never leaving Laurent’s freckled shoulders, “they are distracting.” It was a lie. Everything about Laurent was distracting.

This is sports, Damen thought. He forced himself to stop and focussed on the task at hand. He brought the bowl to Laurent’s nape and tipped it gently, letting a stream of oil trickle from it to Laurent’s neck, running all the way down to his back and getting lost in the crease of Laurent’s ass. When he looked up again, the small hairs on Laurent’s nape were standing up.

“I’m done,” he announced.

Laurent turned and, to Damen’s amusement, he was blushing. His skin was pinkish from cheek to chest. Laurent looked away, trying but failing at looking unaffected.

“Then show me,” Laurent said.

Damen explained the essentials to Laurent. _You can’t hit below the belt_ , he explained, _you can use your legs to pin and hold only_ , _holding your opponent down was the goal_. Laurent listened, frowning when Damen demonstrated an arm lock. When Damen was done covering all the basics, Laurent declared himself ready and got into position. Laurent had no chance of winning against Damen, they both knew it, but Damen could see in Laurent’s eyes he was going to try.

And just like that Damen was excited. Laurent was used to playing dirty, tricking his opponent into making mistakes and stalling the fight until he had an opening. Size and physical strength were your best advantages when fighting, and Damen was both bigger and stronger than Laurent. Laurent’s slick body would have to struggle in Damen’s grip. This was going to be fun.

Before Damen had time to properly balance himself, Laurent threw his body against Damen’s chest, putting his whole weight behind it. Damen toppled, the air knocked out of his lungs. Laurent tried to use the momentum to pin Damen down, but the oil made everything slippery and he lost his hold of Damen. Damen rolled away from Laurent and they stared at each other, before meeting again.

Laurent quickly learned how to use his smaller body to his favor, twisting and turning against Damen’s hold, making it hard for Damen to pin him down. Laurent was giving all he had. Damen was barely warming up. He smiled at Laurent. He was getting better with each round.

“I’m just starting,” said Laurent, his breathing hard.

“Sure.”

Laurent was sizing Damen up. His calculating eyes searched Damen for a weakness. When he went for Damen’s waist, Damen was ready. Damen wrapped his arms around Laurent’s torso while Laurent tried to put Damen’s back to the dust. Damen held firmly and Laurent, because he was Laurent, after all, and played to win, slipped his hand inside the back of Damen’s pants and started probing. Damen couldn’t help but laugh. Nikandros had tried the same move once.

“I hope,” Damen said, “that you are not planning on doing this while fighting others.”

Damen let his grip on Laurent slip lower. He wrapped his arms around Laurent’s lower back and turned, his back going to the ground. He brought one leg over Laurent’s chest and held him firmly against himself. Laurent’s ass was in front of Damen’s face and Laurent’s head resting on Damen’s groin. Damen regretted that he was not more insistent about fighting naked. Damen kissed Laurent’s firm ass as Laurent struggled on top of him. He was enjoying this, his whole being singing with the exertion. When Laurent tried and failed to remove Damen’s leg from his neck, Damen felt teeth sinking into the muscle. He let Laurent go.

Damen had had enough. The moment Laurent was up and ready again Damen tackled him. He pinned Laurent down, Damen’s strong thighs holding Laurent’s leg firmly in place. When Laurent grabbed a handful of dust, a trick Damen was well familiar with, he grabbed both of Laurent’s wrists and held them on the ground above Laurent’s head.

“Got you,” Damen said, smiling down at Laurent, their faces almost touching. Under him, Laurent was covered in dust and breathing hard. His hair was damp with oil and sweat and his pupils blown. Their chests were pressed so tightly together Damen could feel Laurent’s thunderous heartbeat.

“What now?” Laurent’s tone challenging. When Laurent tried to struggle, Damen loosened his grip. Laurent got his right arm out of Damen’s hold but made no move to free his other arm.

“Now,” Damen said, teasing, “I believe I am owned a reward.” He closed the space between them, their mouths meeting in a soft kiss. When Damen pressed their groins together, he could feel Laurent’s arousal through the fine fabric of their pants. Laurent’s free hand was between them trying to remove Damen’s clothes.

“I told you,” Damen whispered against Laurent’s mouth, “that it was more enjoyable when you are naked.”

“You always gave me good advice,” Laurent said, “I should listen to you.”

Laurent was quick to get their clothes out of the way. Damen’s pants were around his thighs, he could feel the sun warming his naked ass. Laurent’s were down only enough to expose his arousal. Damen took them both in hand and started to stroke, the friction easy because of all the oil covering them. Laurent’s hand was on Damen’s bottom, urging him forward. Damen tightened his grip and increased his pace. 

They were alone in the training grounds, the silence broken only by the sound of their moans.

Damen could tell Laurent was close. The sounds coming out of him barely audible now, his face buried on Damen’s neck. Damen slowed his strokes to the gentle pace Laurent liked, thumbing the head with every caress of his hand. Without warning, Laurent spilled between them. Damen followed shortly.

Lost in his release, Damen didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.

“Have you tried the rabbit hole?” he heard, in heavily accented Veretian. The voice was close.

When he looked up, Pallas was entering the arena with Lazar at his side. Upon seeing them on the floor, half naked and covered in come, Pallas froze. Lazar, since Veretians apparently had no sense of respect, laughed loudly. The smirk on his face told Damen that, if he were closer to them, Lazar would probably clap his shoulder and congratulate him on getting a leg over his king.

Once the shock wore off, Pallas turned and left without a word, pulling Lazar with him. Lazar kept looking back, as if to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him.

“Can you not ask Nikandros to take him back to Delpha?” Laurent asked.

Damen just rolled off of him, covered his eyes with his arm, and laughed.

They should do it in the bedroom next time.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They didn’t do it in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is incredibly saccarine, I'm sorry.

There was a warm gentle breeze coming through the window when Damen started to stir in the morning. When he dropped his arm to the other side of the bed, there was only the warm impression of Laurent’s body marking the sheets. Damen frowned. There went his plans for the morning.

But Damen was nothing if not resourceful.

He rested his head on his forearms and made himself comfortable, taking a moment to untangle himself from the silk bedding. He laid with one knee up, feeling the summer air kiss his skin. He took himself in hand and started to stroke.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his hand working the length of his arousal. His strokes were lazy and his grip was loose, but it was a pleasant feeling. He couldn’t come like this and Damen wasn’t sure he wanted to come.

There was a noise next to him. Damen’s hand stilled and he opened his eyes.

Laurent was standing next to the bed, completely composed, covered neck to toe in Veretian clothes. When Damen let go of his cock and stretched idly, Laurent’s eyes followed the curve of Damen’s body and the flex of his muscles. Damen sure to stretch every muscle thoroughly.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Laurent made a keep going gesture with his hand. He started to tighten the laces on his wrist.

“Come back to bed,” Damen rested himself in one elbow and tapped the empty sheet next to him.

“You seem to have everything under control,” Laurent said.

“Not for that,” Damen felt himself blush. “Just--lay with me.”

Laurent sat on the edge of the bed “I can’t, “ He sighed, resting his elbow on his knee and pinching the bridge of his nose, a small gesture Laurent would never allow himself outside their bedroom. “I need to meet with Vannes.”

In the weeks since they took back their thrones, between Damen getting stabbed and traveling to Vere and back, they had had little time to enjoy themselves. Akielos was still unstable. Some Veretians were not pleased with the alliance. They had work to do and meetings to attend. Damen could see that it was taking a toll on Laurent. The past couple of days, Laurent had been quiet, the line of his shoulder always tense. Despite the Akielon heat, he was back into strict Veretian laces most of the days. His viciousness had all his men on edge.

“Will you do the laces on my back?” Laurent asked.

Damen sat up. He kissed Laurent’s neck softly before he started to undo the laces, slowly working the ties loose and unwrapping Laurent like a gift.

“That’s the opposite of what I asked,” Laurent said when he realised his shirt was not getting any tighter.

“Wear a chiton today,” Damen moved, hugging Laurent’s waist and resting his head on Laurent’s lap. “I have plans.”

Laurent looked down at Damen. He considered Damen’s request for a moment. “I--yes” Laurent said finally.

Damen pressed his face to Laurent’s stomach and smiled when he felt Laurent’s hands running through his curls. He enjoyed the attention for a while before getting up and working on loosening the rest of Laurent’s laces. Maybe if he was very lucky, he could convince Laurent to come back to bed.

-

He didn’t manage to get Laurent back in bed. Laurent was happy to let Damen touch himself per his instructions while he changed, though. It was a good start to the day.

Once Laurent’s chiton was in place and he was ready for the day, he left Damen in bed, happy and sated, to get ready by himself. When a servant knocked at his door and entered the bedroom with a tray of fruit and bread in hand, sent by Laurent he supposed, Damen smiled and allowed himself to be dressed by the boy.

When his chiton was properly folded and his red cape pinned in place, Damen placed his crown snuggly on the top of his curls and went to face his morning obligations. He had to meet Makedon about the situation in Sycion; Laurent was probably talking to Vannes about the Regent’s boy. 

The evening, Damen hoped, would be much more pleasant. 

When he met Laurent again, it was mid afternoon and Nikandros was waiting for them.

His eyes were hard and there was a frown in place that Damen wanted to reach for it with his fingers and wipe it off Laurent’s face.

Laurent was tense. Damen could it feel it in the way Laurent moved and talked, the subtle way he rubbed his fingers together when he was not comfortable. There was a reason Laurent was postponing dealing with the boy. He was under Laurent’s protection but, as Laurent predicted, the boy resented Laurent for killing the Regent. Damen offered to deal with the child himself, keep him in his household and teach him a trade. Laurent refused and told Damen this was something he _needed_ to do. Damen didn’t insist.

He was going to wait until the meeting with Nikandros was over to move on with his plans, but the high line of Laurent’s shoulder told Damen they couldn’t wait anymore. Laurent was tense was a green colt in the battlefront. Getting through their meeting was risky. Laurent would explode and alienate his fragile relationship with Nikandros even more.

Damen took hold of Laurent’s hand and made a turn in the wrong direction.

“Damianos?” 

“We are going somewhere,” Damen said as he led Laurent through the corridor of the palace and out into the garden. Laurent didn’t protest as Damen thought he would, instead he clutched Damen’s hand and followed him.

Damen removed his crown, placing it on random statue as they crossed the garden. Before leaving the palace grounds, Damen used his red cape to cover Laurent’s head, tying it the traditional way Akielon women wore their scarves in the summer.

“Keep your wrist under the fold of your chiton.” Damen suggested. They didn’t have anything to cover the gold cuffs.

Their walk through the city was mostly uneventful. Hand in hand, they made their way through the busy streets of Ios. Laurent didn’t ask where they were going, he simply pointed at interesting architecture as they strolled down the streets, stopping a few times to look at the trinkets street sellers offered. Damen noticed the line of Laurent’s shoulders relaxing visibly the further into the city they went. 

“A flower for the pretty lady.” One flower merchant greeted Laurent, bowing slightly with his hand up, holding a blue flower to Laurent in offering. Laurent was surprised for a moment, but then his mouth turned into a shy smile as he accepted the flower. His voice when he thanked the man was high pitched and lady like. The man bowed again respectfully and left.

“Allow me,” Damen took the delicate flower from Laurent’s hands, “my lady.” He added, amused.

Laurent glared at Damen as he fixed the flower, tucking it safely under the scarf and behind Laurent’s ear. Another lock of his blond hair escaped from under the fabric, a few strands catching on the petals. Damen placed a kiss on the tip of Laurent’s nose, still amazed that he could do it. Laurent tried to suppress his smile in fake annoyance, but couldn’t quite manage it.

Damen smiled to himself, proud of his plans. Laurent would enjoy not being King for a few hours. They could deal with Nikandros later.

Without guards and with Laurent’s hair covered, no one seemed to recognize them.

As they neared their destination, the buildings were slowly being replaced by trees, the hard stones under their feet turning into soft white sand. The chattering of merchants and the laugh of the kids now barely a whisper. The beach was empty, as it often was, since the commoners favored the ones closer the the city.

“Damen---” Laurent let go of Damen’s hand. Laurent stood still for a moment, his face painted with disbelief. Damen smiled as he watched Laurent watch the sea.

Laurent lifted his hands to the fabric covering his head, letting it slide down to the ground slowly. The flower stayed miraculously in place. When he looked back at Damen, he was smiling. It was such a genuine, childish smile, filled with pure joy that something in Damen’s chest twinged. There was nothing he could do but smile back. Damen bent down and picked his cape up, welcoming the distraction before he made a fool of himself.

“It is beautiful.” Laurent said. 

Damen nodded his agreement. It was a particularly beautiful place. Damen chose this section of the shore because of its secluded nature. He used to come here with Nikandros when they were both boys, spending their evenings swimming and climbing over the white rock formations protruding from the ground.

Laurent gave the ocean his attention again. He bent one of his knees, bringing one foot up. Carefully, Laurent undid the laces of his sandal. He repeated the motion with the other foot, letting the sandals drop. His bare feet touched the ground and Laurent wriggled his toes, burying them in the sand, feeling it. Laurent watched as Damen took his own sandals off, not as elegantly as Laurent but just as effective. 

Damen took Laurent’s hand in his when Laurent offered it, lacing their fingers together. Laurent guided them closer to the water. The ocean was calm today, the stillness of it broken only by a few small ripples. The water an aquamarine blue, so clear you could see the wrinkles in the sand at the at the bottom of it. 

A foamy wave reached them, shyly touching Laurent’s feet and retreating quickly. Laurent watched it with curiosity. When he looked up at Damen, there was surprise in his eyes.

“It is warm.” Laurent observed.

“It is.” Damen said matter of factly. “We could swim later.”

They stepped further into the ocean, letting the water engulf their calves. Laurent chuckled when their movements scared the tiny fishes, his eyes following them as they swam away hastily.

They walked side by side in silence, down the shore, leaving the high cliffs of Ios behind them. The warm water kissing their bare feet with every gentle wave. The sun was close to setting, colouring the sky with a nice shade of orange and pink. Damen could feel Laurent’s hand brushing against his. Laurent was watching the sea, the last rays of sunshine reflecting on the ocean waves. Damen was watching how it all reflected on Laurent’s eyes.

“Before,” Damen broke the silence, “I thought about this.”

“About the beach?” Laurent asked when Damen didn't elaborate. 

“Yes,” Damen said, “I thought about being here. With you. Showing my country to you, taking you to all my favorite places.”

Damen laughed, shaking his head as if to clean his mind of whatever he was thinking. 

“It’s silly, I know.” Damen said shyly. “With all the things I should’ve been thinking about--”

“No,” Laurent interrupted, “It is…. Nice. I’d like you to do that.”

A gently blush made its way up to Laurent’s cheek. Damen cupped Laurent’s face in his hands and kissed Laurent’s lips.

After a short moment, Laurent pushed Damen away with a firm hand on Damen’s chest. Damen watched as Laurent started to work on the lion pins of his chiton. He opened them, letting the fabric slip free from his shoulders. He pinned the pins randomly on the chiton again to avoid losing them. Laurent unfolded the white cotton and let it fall around his feet. He kicked the fabric out of the ocean’s reach.

Naked, Laurent stood in front of him, the sunlight bathing his skin and highlighting the new freckles on Laurent’s shoulders. The light shining through the pale strands of Laurent’s hair made him luminous. Damen could see why their people called Laurent ‘the golden king’.

Laurent turned and started to walk away from Damen.

“Come back,” Damen called, ”I wasn’t done kissing you yet.”

Laurent laughed and started to run. “I want to swim,” he shouted back, “join me when you catch up.”

Damen watched Laurent run for a moment before bolting after him.

He ran, splashing water and wet sand every time his feet hit the ground. Laurent looked over his shoulder and laughed loudly when he saw that Damen was getting closer. 

Laurent turned, running backwards in a light trot, waiting for damen to reach him. Damen threw the cape he had been holding away and wrapped his arms around Laurent’s waist. Laurent laughed the entire time, completely amused by their silly game, throwing his arms around Damen’s neck.

When Laurent wrapped his legs around Damen’s waist, Damen moved one of his hands under Laurent’s bottom to support him. They were both laughing like idiots when Laurent brought his mouth down to meet Damen’s in a passionate kiss. Damen spun them as they kissed until they toppled to the ground in a giggling mess of limbs.

Anyone that looked at them would have taken them for two fools in love, frolicking on the sand like careless children.

They’d not be far too far from the truth.

“You are covered in sand,” Damen said looking down, Laurent’s body trapped under him.

“And you are covered in fabric,” Laurent said, his fingers brushing the pin holding Damen’s clothes in place.

Laurent had a point. Damen rolled off him and removed his chiton as Laurent watched him.

“Let’s get rid of all this sand,” Laurent said standing up, “then, I want to relax.”

-

Damen retrieved his red cape from where he had discarded it and spread it in front of one of the white rocks that scattered all over the beach.

He sat on the fabric, resting his back on the rock with his legs and arms open, inviting Laurent to join him. Laurent took the invitation, his back against Damen’s chest and throwing his head back on Damen’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and smiled when Damen started to kiss him.

Damen’s arms circled Laurent’s chest and Laurent’s arms hugged Damen’s thighs as they lay there in silence, drying off under the last rays of sunshine.

Damen was almost dozing off when he felt Laurent’s hand grabbing his and moving it in the direction of his groin. Laurent let go once Damen’s hand was resting on top of Laurent’s half-interested cock.

“Make me come,” Laurent whispered, throwing his head back and kissing Damen’s cheek.

Damen nosed affectionately at Laurent’s neck. “As you wish.”

He took Laurent’s cock in hand and started to stroke. He felt Laurent starting to swell under his touch. He kept his grip light and his rhythm steady.

Laurent’s breath was ragged, coming out of his mouth in small pants. Damen could tell he was close. He nipped at Laurent’s exposed neck and increased the pace of his hand.

That’s when they heard the sound of horses.

Damen froze as the rider approached them.

Pallas’ horse came to a halt in front of them. He opened his mouth to speak. He closed it again the moment he took in their positions and what it meant. Laurent spread his legs farther apart and smiled, “Yes?” Laurent said wickedly.

Damen willed the ocean to swallow them all.

Pallas simply turned his horse and left. Laurent threw his head back on Damen’s shoulder and shook with laughter.

“Must you?” Damen used both of his hands to cover Laurent’s groin when he saw another horse coming. Laurent didn’t thank him. He simply relaxed further into Damen’s embrace, completely undisturbed.

“A messenger from Sycion has arrived and the men are looking for you lovebirds everywhere,” Lazar announced, dropping their discarded clothes next to them, “Your highness.” He added as an afterthought.

Laurent squinted his eyes to try and see Pallas’s horse in the distance.

“How hard it must be,” said Laurent, “when your boy runs away at the first sight of cock.”

“You must have a hell of an ugly cock then,” Lazar said, shielding his eyes from the setting sun and looking at Pallas’ far away horse, “He usually runs in the other direction.”

Damen snorted against Laurent’s neck. He shouldn’t encourage this kind of behaviour.

“You take liberties,” Laurent glared.

Lazar grinned. It was not something he’d say to Laurent in front of the men without being reprimanded for it. Before risking a change in Laurent’s mood, Lazar turned his horse, but he looked at them before he left. They were both still naked, Laurent’s back to Damen’s chest, sitting on Damen’s red cape and covered in sand. The lines across Lazar’s eyes softened, a fond smile on his face.

“King Damianos,” Lazar said, his eyes not leaving Laurent’s face, “he’s good for you.”

With one last nod to Damen, Lazar readied his horse and left. Laurent watched Lazar go with an unreadable expression on his face.

Damen started to move to stand, but Laurent tensed his muscles, making it harder for Damen to move and keeping him in place.

“I haven’t come yet,” Laurent stated, as if it should be obvious to Damen.

“Are you serious?” Laurent was not usually one to dismiss his obligations for pleasure.

“If you were better at it….” Laurent trailed off.

Damen laughed. “I blame your ugly cock.” he said, quoting Lazar.

“It’s a perfectly fine cock,” Laurent said seriously, “You seem to like it well enough."

Damen laughed again. Laurent had a point; it was indeed one of the best Damen had ever seen.

The messenger could wait.

Damen took Laurent’s cock in hand and started to stroke again.


End file.
